Escape
by Katherine Elaine
Summary: If you ask Dean Winchester, visiting the theatre is a mandatory human experience. If you ask Castiel, horror movies are not. There's one thing they can agree on though. Prompt/request. Fluffy, cute Destiel.


"Dean—"

"Shh. Cas, didn't you read the warnings before the movie about not talking and no phones and all that?" Dean asks rhetorically in a hushed voice and rolls his eyes. The theatre's dark and crowded with people now, only twenty minutes into the film. Castiel—_the poor bugger_, Dean thinks—has never been to the theatre before, and of course he doesn't know what to expect, but he should have had an idea of what he was getting himself into. It's a human experience, one that Dean decided Cas needed to have, and as a result, dragged him along to see the next available showing of some cheesy horror film they released last weekend. As always, the blonde girl is the victim, and Dean grins and nods whenever she comes on screen. _Nice._

Castiel says nothing in response to Dean's reminder. Indeed, he'd seen the warnings, but staying quiet was never one of his strong points, he supposes. He grits his teeth and curls his fists into balls, stuffing them into the pockets of the jeans Dean's lent him for the occasion and watches as the tension wells up in his body. He's seen worse than a murder in a film, of course—hell, more than once he's had to kill for Dean's safety, for his own, for Heaven's. Still, he cringes every time there's a threatening-looking shadow or a scream or a drop of blood, because he knows what's coming.

He looks to Dean, who is slouched in the red velvety fabric-covered chair with the folding seat and built-in cup holder and watches him eating popcorn comfortably with a smirk on his face that causes poor Castiel to frown. He looks away, confused by the hunter's emotions, and back to the screen, where the young blonde girl that's the object of Dean's eye right now is thrown against a brick wall by a figure in all-black clothing and a mask meant to look like a skull, or so he assumes. It looks nothing like a skull, and he focuses his thoughts on that instead of the jealousy that arises when he realizes Dean is only here to stare at this actress, whose name he still hasn't caught up until this point.

So as he tries to digest the realization—and the fact that people watch these sorts of films for amusement; how sick is that?—Dean glances out the corner of his right eye toward Cas, his head only moving a fraction, and wonders what he's thinking about.

"Cas," he whispers loudly, ignoring his own warnings. "Cas," he says again when the former angel doesn't look. Finally, when he does, Dean turns up one corner of his mouth. "You okay?"

"I don't understand your idea of _fun_," Castiel announces, his expression blank but cold, somehow.

"Hey, we can leave if you want to. What, you scared or something?"

"No, I just fail to comprehend how this classifies as amusement to your—our—kind. Supposedly."

"So you're scared, then."

Cas opens his mouth to answer, but someone whispers "Shh!" loudly from a few rows behind them, and he blushes instead, embarrassed that he'd unknowingly been so loud. Dean keeps grinning, but looks back to the screen.

Castiel's counting the minutes, like it's all some formula, until the next bad thing happens to this poor girl, who he's learned is called Lindsey. At least, Dean figures it's counting, judging by the way Castiel taps one finger on his thigh for every minute or so that passes. He can't quite figure out the pattern, honestly, or if there even is one, but he knows when it's coming, and so does Castiel. When the minor key music gets loud and screechy or when the lights flicker, his eyes widen. Once, his mouth even forms the distinct word, 'demon' and Dean can't help but chuckle at the confused look on Cas' face that says, _I thought your movies didn't have those_. So when Cas looks back to him, Dean keeps smiling but shakes his head. And right on cue, the murderer breaks in through the window. Cas looks like he's never seen anyone do that before, and it causes him to jump, his shoulders tensing and back stiffening as he sits up straight.

Dean takes the opportunity to calm the still-moving fingers by setting the popcorn on the floor between them, and reaches under the armrest to grab Cas' left hand with his right, his eyes studying their entwined fingers. His eyes meet Cas', whose lip trembles much like his hand, and mouths, Not real. Not in their universe, anyway. Castiel only nods and sits back in his chair, mimicking Dean's lazy posture.

The hunter releases his hand in search for the popcorn bag, and returns both hands to his lap when he's had a few handfuls. Castiel is busy watching the couple in the row in front of them, the man that stretches his arm and slides one around the girl to his left smoothly. She laughs, for some reason, and kisses his cheek. There's a tingling sensation in Cas' stomach and he's not sure what it is, but he finds himself standing to stretch, causing a few shouts and threats from behind him, and Dean to tug on the sleeve of his hoodie, telling him to sit down. He complies immediately and apologizes to no one but Dean before stretching his arms out, bent at the elbow, then unfolding them all the way. He hits Dean in the chest accidentally and apologizes again before swiftly lifting his left arm over Dean's head, and draping it over his shoulder.

Dean chuckles and pulls away, but only far enough to lift the armrest out of the way and move back, his head resting comfortably in the crook of Castiel's neck. Cas doesn't know what to do with this, because that isn't how it happened with the couple in front. He freezes, and Dean seems to pick up on this, lifting his chin to look up at Cas, who looks down.

It's close enough, he decides, and bends to kiss Dean's cheek. The hunter, however has a different idea and tilts his head ever so slightly to capture Cas' lips in his own for a brief moment before they both turn back to the movie. A child behind them whistles, and both grin. It's a small comfort, but it makes the film bearable. He reaches for Dean's hand, and links their fingers contentedly.

And suddenly Cas understands, somewhat. It's not horror that humans find amusing, it's the escape from reality. Team Free Will. Saving people. Hunting things. Those are his escapes.

So if this is reality, why would anyone ever want to escape?


End file.
